


Nothing For Free

by bilbo



Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Background Relationships, Gen, Medicinal Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Other, Tragedy/Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilbo/pseuds/bilbo
Summary: The Sifa Do Nothing For FreeThe untold backstory between Elder Cadia and the Ha'rar Librarian
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> If you're like me, you noticed the palpable tension between Cadia and the Librarian which begged the question - who were they once to each other, and what happened to change that? Since I haven't written anything in a painfully long time, I thought this story was a good place to start. I hope you enjoy it.

“The Sifa do nothing for free.”

It was a phrase that continued to echo through the vaulted shelving of the library long after they had been spoken. Indeed, the speaker would continue to hear them for many trine, long after they had faded into nothing and were forgotten altogether. But the books would not forget them. For the books, the ever present bearers of history long forgotten, held a memory within their leather and parchment that would outlive all.

As the echo of that sentence poured down the lilting curved of the staircase, they settled at the base of the stairs in a pool of litanies; of guilt and regret. Poisonous words often carry with them deep wounds, and many times those wounds are self-inflicted. The wound was still deep, and though the wheels of time had driven far far forward, it remained fresh. Like a moment in recent memory that never healed. Like a wound that festers under untended bandages - that is picked at and pulled and reopened day after day to keep the spirit of the injury alive. That was the wound. It was a wound of words and grief and betrayal and loss. And it was a wound that would remain open and bleeding for as long as the injured allowed it to be.

When a memory of a phrase pulses in the very walls, each syllable heavy with a private history, it is impossible to ignore, and even without a single sounds to be heard by the sharpest of ears, it still carried itself with unmatched strength and resilience.

“Enough of that,” a voice called into the void, a small attempt to override its power with something mundane and not laden with pain. There was enough pain to go around. “This is a library after all. Libraries should be quiet.”

_ Indeed, _ he thought.  _ And is it not I who has made it so loud? _

Somewhere on a high bookshelf, a Pluff'm cooed as it started to nibble away at another aged tome, and for the breifest of moments, the phrase was almost forgotten.

Sighing from his depths, the librarian set to his evening task of returning as many of the books back to their homes as possible, though it was often difficult to keep up with the mess what with the rampant Pluff`m, occasional fizzgigs, and a particularly bright and stubborn princess. Crossing to pick up a book from one of the tables, he gently closed it and took a moment to read the title.

_ A Compendium of Symbols from Dreamwalks and Dreametchings _

_ Compiled by Veena and Cadia of Clan Sifa _

Touching the title, he thought back to the conversation he’d had only a short time earlier.

“We Sifa never forget. Or forgive.”

_ Fair enough,  _ he considered for a brief, heart-rending moment. It was, after all, he who said they do nothing for free. But equally true was the reality that forgiveness could not be bought at any price, for betrayal was the deepest cut of all.

Taking the book and pressing it under his arm, he dimmed the lamps and locked the citadel library safely behind him before returning to his home in Ha’rar near the Silver Sea. The cottage overlooked the cliffs to see the Sifa ships below. Setting the book down on the table near an old dreametching from a time long passed, he sat before both and watched out the window distantly for some time. He could see all the ships in the distance, so large to step upon and yet from this vantage looked hardly any larger than letter on the page of the book before him. Still from this distance he could recognise the ship belonging to his former friend and companion, Elder Cadia. It had taken all his resolve to set foot on that ship this day and though the reception was everything he expected it to be, it still stinged. Salt in the wound he’d given him self many years ago.

Opening the book then, he flipped through the pages until he came upon one that showed the same dreametching that covered a large portion of his table. Beneath the image was a caption, written in the flourished hand of of Cadia before he bore the name of elder: a dreametching created during a shared experience in the dreamspace by Veena and Cadia, two Sifa, Ohri, a Vapra and Tahrot, a Dousan.

He didn’t need to read the names to know them - he remembered each name and face like when they were young, and he could still recall the moment the etching was created - a rare and special moment between them that’s true meaning was eventually hidden. Even in this compendium, written during their time together, there was no interpretation of the symbol before him. Only its existance on a page of parchment, and the names beneath.

Pushing the book back so he could now fully see the etching on the table top, he placed his hand upon the symbol and as with some dreametchings, the dreamfast that had been shared at this surface once before began to play out before his eyes as if it were only yesterday, and he was still young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01/02 - I updated the library critters to Pluff'm since I now have the epic AoR book. :)


	2. Looking For Adventure

The second sister was rising behind the mountaintop city of Ha’rar, its light reaching the ships along the shore of the Silver Sea as a young gelfling made his way to the ships. His platinum hair shone in the light of the suns as he made his way On his shoulder hung a bag filled with the few supplies he had hurridly packed for his journey. “Veena!” he called as he raced past many ships adorned with azure sails and hand carved mastheads. “Veena! Cadia! Don’t leave without me!” He tripped over his own feet as he arrived at the ship he saught - a ship made from wood that shimmered with shades of voilet and green, a billowing sail the colour of the sea fluttered in the cool winds from the water and causing the Sifa sigil that adorned it to rise and fall like a ship on the waves. The wooden gangway was still lowered, a sign that they were indeed still waiting on him and he tore up the steps to board his friends’ ship.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d show,” a familiar voice was carried on the wind and the young gelfling looked up at the speaker. He was a gelfling of similiar age with ruddy hair, a short beard that was just long enough fo him to braid it down the middle, and on his face he wore a smirk. “Or if you’d stay behind again.”

“I knew he’d come,” another voice spoke knowingly. Another gelfling, a female, approached him from the main cabin. Her hair was the colour of the sky when the three sisters touched the horizan, and that fire only hinted at the fierce creature inside her. “I saw it.”

“Veena. Cadia. I told you I would!”

“Ha! That’s what you said the last time. We waited until the great sister was in the sky for you, and you never came,” the one called Cadia spoke with humour in his tone. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and his smirk only continued to spread. “For someone who talks about wanting adventure, you sure seem afraid of it.”

“I’m not afraid,” the other countered as he rolled his shoulder out of Cadia’s grip.

“There is nothing wrong with fear,” the one called Veena replied gently and she approached both males, placing one hand on each of them. She was the oldest of the three and though none of them hailed from the same family, she saw the two as her little brothers - in need of guideance and her watchful eye from time to time. “Fear protects us.”

“But too much fear can keep you from living,” Cadia answered and he gave his companion a little shove. “Isn’t that right, Ohri? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Come on Cadia,” Veena pressed and she dragged him away from Ohri. “Raise the gangway. We should cast off.”

“I’ll do it!” Ohri spoke without hesistation and rushed to do just as he had promised, while Veena and Cadia set about the preparation of casting off. The sounds of the sails above them seemed to slap and crack with the force of the salty winds and as they carried the boat from the harbour, Ohri watched his childhood home of Ha’rar vanish on the horizan like a memory of a former life. He was ready to seek out new adventures, new family, and a new place to call home.

As a gelfling born and raised in Ha’rar of the Vapra clan, Ohri was quite different from his sea-faring friends. His skin was fairer, his hair lighter, even his eyes brighter, but he knew that the Sifa were the most open and welcoming of the clans. Even now as he looked upon Cadia and Veena, he could see a bit of the mixture in both of them. Some Stonewood perhaps, on Cadia’s side, or maybe a hint of Spriton. Veena on the other hand was larger - stronger, as if she had Drenchen somewhere back in her line. It was this mixing perhaps that lead so many of the powerful Vapra to look down upon the Sifa. The Vapra maintained their purity - they ruled the capital, their Maudra was the All-Maudra, and their wealth was unmatched by any other clan. The Sifa, by contrast, were a smattering band of superstitious misfits who took on that which was unwanted and unwelcomed, drawing them into the fold.

_ The Sifa are nothing but trouble, _ he remembered his father telling him when he was a youngling.  _ They’ll seduce you with the idea of adventure, riches, and visions of the future, but trust me my son - the Sifa do nothing for free. It’ll cost you in the end. _

Ohri did not share his father’s fear of the Sifa or their way of life. Part of him hoped that they would welcome him into the clan, and that he could spend the remainder of his life sailing the seas, exploring the dreamspace, and learning to understand the mystical realm - the realm of vision and prophecy. Veena was a soothsayer, one of the strongest of her clan, and no one knew more of symbols and their deeper meanings than Cadia. Ohri was in good company, that much he knew, and though all he had to offer them in return was his learning and study in the pages of many leatherbound books, if nothing else he could take down everything he learned. They could share their knowledge together, learn together, and grow together.

“We travel West, for Cera-Na,” Cadia sang, swinging down from a masthead with the kind of ease of one born on the open sea. The announcement brought joy to Ohri’s heart, for he knew little of the Sifan Coast or the port capital of the Sifa. As if he could read the other’s excitement, Cadia took Ohri by the hand and yanked him to the bow of the ship and pointed towards the horizan. “Have you ever seen a ship made of living coral, Ohri?” he asked with delight. “I’ll bet you haven’t!”

He released the Vapra then and leaned forward to look out upon the Silver Sea, which at this depth appeared to be a deep indigo rather than silver, and inhaled the salty air that sprayed his face. “The port is always filled with ships. All manner of ships, all colours. It’s beautiful. It’s home, if there is such a place.”

“Sounds beautiful,” Ohri echoed as he tried to picture it in his head. In his mind, the port below the city of Ha’rar was the most beautiful and expansive collection of boats to ever exist, but to hear Cadia speak of it, he knew it was a pale comparison to the Sifa capital on the far West of the known world.

“You’ve never seen colour like you will when we arrive,” Cadia continued excitedly. “You’re from Ha’rar. Everything is bland and white and clean. When you see the colours of Cera-Na -”

“You mean its more colourful than your ship?”

The question made Cadia laugh and he glanced sidelong at his friend with a raised brow. “Its a good thing you decided to come this time, Ohri.” And he stepped back from the bow of the ship, his gaze scanning the horizan before turning back to the stern. There was a cabin beneath, where they would take turns resting, eating, and sleeping, and Cadia made his way towards the door. “Some tea perhaps? To help open your eyes?”

Ohri grinned. “What kind?”

“Azulspore, of course. Unless you prefer the strong Pod brew.”

At that, the Vapran shook his head. He’d never been privy to a podling party, but he knew enough about the race to know that Pod brew resulted in much more than quenched thirst. If one thing could be said of the pod people, it was that they knew how to have a good time. “If I’m going to be any help at all on the open water, I shouldn’t.”

“Ach, Veena and I have been sailing these seas just the two of us since we were both just past younglings,” Cadia joked with a flick of his hand. “Come down, I’ll brew some for both of us. Perhaps three, I’m sure Veena would like a cup.”

“Can you sail if -”

“I could sail this sea blindfolded in the dark,” he spoke with absolution and went below. Ohri close behind him. As he went about the preparation of tea-making, the beads the adorned his clothes jingled and clicked. “Its here,” he added as he turned to look at Ohri and pointed to his head. “Its not always what you see with your eyes. You see with your mind. Certain smells, certain sounds, the chill of the wind...all of it can tell you more than your eyes ever will. And you can trust me on that.”

“Then why are you giving me tea to open my eyes?” Ohri asked, his tone expressing honest confusion.

Cadia smirked. “Not those eyes, my friend. Not those eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and constructive criticism welcome. :)


	3. The Third Eye

“In all those smelly books you love so much, you’ve never heard anything about the third eye?” Cadia teased as he swirled around the remains of the tea in his wooden cup, the smell of it still potent in spite of it having grown cold.

“I’ve read things,” Ohri’s response was casual, though in truth he’d only had marginal readings that touched on the subject. Such things were in the realm of superstition and as such were generally frowned upon by the more well read, educated Vapran. The superstitions of the Sifa was a point of fascination for Ohri, but he maintained a level of skepticism when it came to anything outside of what he could see and verify on his own. Dreamfasting was one thing, but visions of the future? Magical charms? Cards and runes? Those were things he wanted desperately to understand though his mind had a hard time accepting them. “It’s supposed to help you see the future.”

“Sometimes, and sometimes it helps you see what’s in front of you.”

“Doesn’t seem particularly magical then.”

Cadia smirked his playful smirk. “You’d be surprised. Too many people can’t see anything no matter how obvious it is.”

“Are you two going to help at all?” Veena called down below deck and Cadia let out the most exasperated sigh before getting up.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming. I was just entertaining out guest.”

“With Azulspore tea. And none for me?”

“I’ve got your cup,” Cadia spoke defensively as he mounted the stairs to the deck. For lack of being left alone with his thoughts and his head that was fast growing heavy, Ohri followed.

“Slow down,” Veena warned as he passed her and walked to the starboard side to gaze upon the water. “Your head will start to spin if you go too fast with that.”

“He doesn’t believe in the third eye,” Cadia interrupted, taking over the rigging. He was keeping a watchful eye on the horizon, as dark clouds had started to roll in from the West while they were below deck. “This is going to be a rough night. I can already smell it on the air.” The sea spray was already getting stronger and the air smelled of brine, but tasted of metal. It felt heavy - the air was thick with moisture, and as Ohri leaned over the edge to observe the growing waves, he realised that what he was seeing, smelling, even tasting on the air, was a swiftly brewing storm.

He had a few times in his youth witnessed the storms on the sea from the safety of his bedroom window, the view looking down at the Silver Sea from his parents’ home, but here in the water he felt open and exposed.

A moment of panic set in and he backed away from the side of the boat.

“Calm down” Veena spoke, her gentle voice soothing as she came behind him and gently coaxed him back towards the quarters below. “Why don’t you rest below? Cadia and I have sailed through our share of storms.”

Ohri had to pull himself back together and he shook his head, glancing back at the door that betold safety below deck. “No, I came with you to live life. Tell me what to do.”

“Don’t fall overboard.”

“Cadia, enough,” Veena corrected and she released Ohri. “Just keep your head, and we’ll tell you what to do. It’ll depend on the winds, and the waves.”

It seemed like only seconds past before the storm was upon them and they were each of them drenched through their clothes. The foremast hung in tatters as Ohri and Cadia struggled to keep control of the sails while Veena used all her strength to keep the helm from spinning freely. The rain was falling sideways and the electricity streaking through the dark sky cast horrific shadows across their faces, making their strained expressions gaunt. The rain beat the skin and tore their hair, and as Ohri strained against the rope to keep the mainmast from completely going to pieces, he realised in that moment that all of this, every second of it, was testing him. The fear held him but he fought it with all the strength he could muster - strength that paled in comparison to his two friends - and under the fear was some sense of pride. If he could do this, if he could keep doing this, he could escape the dull, sterile life he’d grown up in.

His courage might have been lacking, but he was trying, and the more he tried, the more natural it would become.

There was a moment - the briefest of moments - where the force of a wave nearly dragged him overboard, but it was Cadia who gripped him tightly by the hand and pulled him back to safety. It helped him feel brave. Or at least he thought it felt him feel brave.

Each second felt like a trine and though it was but a small storm in the grand scheme of seafaring, to Ohri it was the longest and most dangerous experience of his young life. The sea became calm as quickly as the storm had rolled and his companions were suddenly jovial and carefree. For his own part, Ohri wasn’t in a state of panic, but he wasn’t able to come down as quickly as the pair of them and so he slid onto knees on the deck, wiping the salty spray from his face with his hands. His silver frock felt stiff and cold now that the storm had died down, and he hesitated for a moment only before taking it off and laying it on an empty crate to dry.

Before he even realised it was happening, Veena had come behind him, draping a cloth over his shoulders to keep him warm and dry. It was thick and scratchy, made from woven yarn that smelled of landstrider hide, but it was warm and for that he was grateful. “Thank you Veena,” he responded, his voice low and soft, and she sat beside him on the deck with a warm smile on her face. She wore her dress that was still wet with rain, and he noticed that several of her beaded adornments were missing, likely torn from the fabric by the wind, but she paid it no mind.

“I remember my first storm,” she responded kindly as she rung her fiery hair out with her hands, the water spattering on the wood gently in a way that seemed ironic in the wake of such chaos only moments before. “I was a youngling then. My parents tried to keep me below deck, but I wanted to be strong and brave like them. I nearly drown myself. I would have, if my mothers hadn’t pulled me away from the edge in time.”

“You were a youngling though,” Ohri answerred dismissively, though he found her words to be helpful all the same.

Cadia had been listening though he didn’t outwardly show it. Instead he simply removed his own tunic and wrung it out over the side of the ship before laying it beside Ohri’s. “The sea was ready for you,” he told his friend, keeping his good humour and ignoring the obvious discomfort and embarrasment from the other. “You’re a true Sifa now.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” Cadia responded fondly. “But the question is, do you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and keep this going at one chapter a week if I can manage, just to keep my practice up. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome and encouraged. :)


End file.
